Stalemate
by Traviosita9124
Summary: Sometimes, there's nowhere else to move. T for less than child friendly language.


So… I promise "Songs in the Key of M" is not a dead story. I'm working on it; it's just taking more effort than usual, and I don't want to just throw something up for the next chapter. However, I got bit by a tiny plot bunny tonight and wanted to get it down before it really threw a monkey wrench into Songs. So, please, forgive my delay in updating that, and enjoy this tidbit. And as always, please read and review.

Final note for other Spanish speakers... does it drive any of the rest of you nuts that "Raphael" was spelled that way instead of "Rafael"? I keep wanting to go back to those early writers and scream "'Ph' does not make 'f' in Spanish! He's Dominican, that means it should be Rafael/Rafa, not Raph!" Just me?

Eh... on with the show.

-Katie

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><p>"You fed Provo that line."<p>

Marshall looked up from the pamphlet she had just handed him, his mind jerking out of a daydream of living in that beautiful house, of watching his children run through it. Funny, instead of redheads with bright blue eyes, they were all brunettes with startling verdant gazes.

"Excuse me?"

Mary strode back to the table and set her coffee mug down smack in the middle of his "possible" pile. She braced her arms on the table and leaned towards him; Marshall struggled to keep his eyes on her face, not down her cleavage.

"And you knew we went to lunch before you overheard my phone call, you must have known in order to feed him that same goddamn line."

The look in her eyes was one of disbelieving exasperation, but not anger, not yet.

"What line, Mare?"

Marshall went back to leafing through brochures. His partner was liable to go on a rant, regardless of where his gaze was focused. It was better if he did his best to avoid provoking her, and at this point, it meant not letting her catch his eyes drifting to her chest.

"Marshall, look at me."

Fuck. There went that plan. His eyes met hers.

"You remember the talk we had before I ran off to Mexico?"

He took a deep breath and answered, "Yeah, Mare, what about it?"

She growled, knowing he was playing stupid. He really put his foot in it this time.

"You remember telling me that maybe I needed messy?"

He nodded. "I seem to recall saying something to that effect."

"Bullshit, Marshall, those were your exact words."

He set down his Prairie School fantasy and stood to face her, purposely forcing her to stand back and assume a less menacing posture. However, to be safe, he made sure to keep the table between them. Even a heavily pregnant Mary was dangerous when angry.

"Major Provo and I might have had a discussion about you and your dating status."

Marshall was glad he made the decision to keep his distance when the screaming began.

"Goddamn it, Marshall, that's not yours to discuss with anyone! Not even me!"

Anger boiled over in his stomach, and he cut off her tirade before she could really get started.

"You're a hypocrite, Mare. You say it's not my business interfering with your dating, but you do the same damn thing with my relationship."

"Relationship? Did you two decide to make it official after homeroom? Is she wearing your letter jacket now?" she jeered.

"That's exactly what I mean! Abigail," he pressed on despite the roll of Mary's eyes, "is not a twelve year old. She's a competent adult that is willing to put up with my crazy hours and bare explanations, and despite it all still loves me. But, instead of being happy for me, accepting that my personal life is going well, you spit vitriol."

She huffed and glared. "That doesn't explain what you're doing telling Provo about my personal life, or even why you're helping him in his misguided attempt to get in my pants."

"Because I want to see you happy, Mare. You seemed to be attracted to him, and he wasn't dense and you wouldn't have to tip toe around what you do. Tiptoeing around made you miserable with Raph. As your partner, and friend, I want you to be happy and this seemed to be the easiest way to help you get there."

Mary's posture changed, going from "righteous anger" to "shamed" in a blink of an eye. She stared at her boots and scuffed a toe on the linoleum as he pressed on.

"A long time ago, you said that I was your only friend, your best friend, but instead accepting my happiness, you just keep stepping on it, again and again. If it's not mocking my girlfriend, it's you getting Brandi to leave her off the guest list for the wedding." He put his hands on his hips in frustration as he waited to hear what she had to say for herself.

"I never told Brandi to leave Abigail off the wedding invite list."

Her words were so quite, he wasn't sure he had heard her at all, and what he heard certainly wasn't what he had expected.

"I never told Brandi to leave her off the guest list. I just told her you didn't need a plus one."

"Mary, why in the hell would you tell her that?"

He watched, perplexed, as the blonde in front of him took a deep, shuddering breath before answering.

"I told her that because I figured you two would be broken up and I would be able to ask you to go with me."

Marshall felt as if the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room. It was as if time had stopped while the two partners stared each other down, neither sure how to proceed. Relief, hope and anger were at war in his gut. He was elated that she was finally admitting what they had known to be true, that there was more between them than just a solid friendship and working relationship. But he had given up on her months ago, had realized and accepted that he couldn't live his life waiting on her; her pregnancy had just reaffirmed that. So, he let his commitmentphile self go nuts, slowly moving things into Abigail's apartment and spending the night with her as a way of letting go.

Leave it to Mary to blow it all to hell with one sentence and send him back to square one.

"Mare…"

He made to walk around the table to hold her as tears formed in her eyes. She held him off with an outward palm.

"Just, don't, Marshall, leave it be. It is what it is at this point."

She turned and walked away, leaving him with a pile of shattered, disjointed dreams.

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><p>FIN<p> 


End file.
